skin deep

life's stressors have been mounting at our house since March pretty steadily. if i believed in conspiracy theories, i'd be surveying the grassy knoll down the street 24x7. Traumatrain could you pass by? I'm not taking delivery anymore.

As a brief update, George's mother is still on life support in the hospital in Florida; George has to have some medical procedures done in the next couple of weeks; and there's more but why bore you with sadness when I can tickle you with a funny story...

So, given the amount of stress, I have augmented my general and consistent recovery work with another prong. I attended a session yesterday with a Helping Professional (AKA: shrink) to evaluate medicine options. I thought the appointment went well, albiet quickly. I felt that I shared what I needed to share to get him up to speed and keep him in the loop. Yep, that all went pretty well, I thought, walking down the hall toward the exit. "Good job, me."

That's when I glanced down at my sleeve and realized my shirt was on inside out.

Like all day.

Like, yes, during my session.

When I laughed and thought, I have to blog this, I knew I could check yesterday off as a "made it through++" day.

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the be all end all of the weinberger v keen thang

Madame Levy summarizes it better than anyone i've seen. i LOLed five times. "mustard is a no go area for most people. trust me." oh man.

i hadn't been reading this stuff and now i don't have to. she's like the cliff notes for blogosphere dust ups. and she cleans fish tanks too.

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